


Shelter From the Rain

by Blackbird Song (Blackbird_Song)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e10 From Out of the Rain, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 20:51:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackbird_Song/pseuds/Blackbird%20Song
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack wonders why Ianto's taking the case so hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shelter From the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sort of tie-in tag between the end of FOotR and the BBCA Captain's Blog entry for it.
> 
> 'Taid' is the fond Welsh term for 'Grandfather'. (It is pronounced 'tide', for those who want to know. /language geek.) Please consider my speculations concerning the Night Travellers to be a bit AU, if you'd like, as it's not mentioned anywhere in canon that I can see.
> 
> Grateful thanks to my husband for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.

"The Night Travellers could still be there, somewhere, just waiting…"

_It's been hours since you dropped the Ghostmaker's flask into my hand and left without a word. In nearly two years of knowing you, I've never seen you leave an artefact in the middle of archiving it without some catastrophe to force you away from it. I've never seen you take a case so hard, either. I mean, I know you feel things deeply, and you've been letting us see that more. When you cried over that boy in the hospital, I just assumed you were expressing your joy in tears. I know I almost did. But now, I wonder. You've been misty-eyed and on edge ever since we got back, and then I said the Night Travellers were probably still on lots of old pieces of film, and you bolted. _

It's odd, you know, because I feel like we got to know each other a bit better on this one, but you closed yourself off to me so completely when you left. I know you need to deal with stuff alone sometimes, but this felt different. Like you were coming unglued. I always need to be alone when I'm doing that, so I'm giving you space. But I can't help this nagging feeling that I've missed something.

And I'm pacing. I can't seem to settle. Like when I first heard that organ music and I couldn't find you. It happened again, sort of, when I put the flask in the vault. I heard something, and you weren't there—again. Do you know how much I rely on you to … tell me what's going on? As soon as Tosh told me where you'd gone, I practically teleported_ there! Fuck, I can't remember the last time I let someone get to me like that. Come to think of it, I can't remember her telling me which cinema you'd gone to…._

Maybe I'm looking at this wrong. Sometimes I miss stuff.

Focus….

Background check.

* * *

Jack found Ianto in the rolling chair at Suzie's old workstation, staring absently up into the Hub. If he hadn't been looking, he'd have missed him, pushed as far back into the corner as he was. "Hey," he offered, from a respectful distance.

Ianto turned reddened eyes towards him.

Jack thought he had rarely seen such unguarded misery on a man's face. "Hey," he said again, moving to sit on the edge of the disused desk. "What's wrong?"

Ianto looked for a moment as though he would answer, but turned away, biting on a fingernail. "Nothing, really."

"That's not true. What's eating you?"

Ianto winced so fast that Jack would have missed it if he'd blinked.

"Bad choice of words?" he asked, peering at Ianto.

"All those people," Ianto murmured absently, thickly. "All those lives just … slipped out of that flask. And I couldn't save them. Couldn't get to them in time. Families. Children. All gone, just like that. If I'd only been looking…."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't see him. The Ghostmaker. I should've seen him."

"I'm still not following you—"

Ianto pounded the metal balusters so fast and hard with his arm that Jack blinked and went on alert. "I didn't see him!" Ianto turned eyes red with grief and fury towards Jack. "If I'd followed even the slightest bit of training, I'd have looked. I wouldn't have just stopped at the bottom of the stairs and left myself exposed like that. Don't you see, Jack?" His voice broke. "If I'd fucking _looked_, he'd never have caught me. He'd never've got the flask. All those people would be alive, and we only saved one."

"Two," said Jack, quietly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Back at the Electro. You saved Gwen when you took the flask."

"I don't understand…."

Jack couldn't repress a soft snort. "That's because you're so torn up you're not thinking straight. Remember what your shoulder felt like when the Ghostmaker got a hold of you?"

"Yeah. Felt like it was searing to a crisp."

"That's pretty much what was happening. Think you could've survived much more of that?"

"Um…"

"Remember what he was—"

"Yes, yes, I take your point," said Ianto, looking away again.

"He'd have killed her if you hadn't distracted him, and we'd have lost that little boy if you hadn't caught the flask."

"Yeah," managed Ianto, blinking back fresh tears.

Jack took a risk and leaned forward, grasping the arm of Ianto's chair. "It's horrible that the others died, but you saved two lives. And then there are all the others we saved when we exposed the Night Travellers. Or should I say, over-exposed them?" he added with a wink, nudging the chair.

Ianto only looked bleakly at him. "We didn't really stop them, though, did we? They're in all those old film canisters…."

"They might be," said Jack, serious again. "We don't really know for sure. But it sure seemed to spook you when I said that."

Ianto twitched. "They touched me, Jack," he said quietly. "Christina saw it. I can't put them aside like I do everything else. Specially not after I heard him...."

"Heard who?"

"That little boy. Calling to me for help. Just like the others…."

"You heard them, too?"

Ianto nodded, eyes awash.

Jack swallowed.

"I could feel them all, screaming as they were ripped from each other, from life."

Jack winced inwardly at the memories that evoked of future-past. "I am so sorry."

Ianto met Jack's gaze. "What if they get out again? The Night Travellers? What if I hear their victims scream and I can't get to them in time? What if … what if I end up like Christina?"

"You won't," said Jack, with quiet, absolute conviction.

"Why wouldn't I? I feel like I'm halfway there, already."

Jack took Ianto's hand, clasping it warmly in his own. "Because you're not alone, and you have people who believe in you and know the truth. Besides, Christina isn't insane. She just ended up in the wrong place."

Ianto gripped Jack's hand. "I don't want to end up there."

Jack squeezed back. "Great Uncle Ifan?"

Ianto looked up at him, a mix of emotions flitting across his face before the penny dropped. "You did a deeper background check," he said, flatly.

"I … don't know how to tell you this," sighed Jack, interlacing his fingers with Ianto's and securing their hands against his chest, "but sensitivity to the Night Travellers may run in families. You were so upset, I had to find out."

Ianto nodded. "They gave him shock treatment."

Jack winced—outwardly, this time.

"He died screaming. Taid never was the same after that."

Jack tugged Ianto closer, chair and all, and kissed his forehead softly. "You know I'll never let that happen to you."

Ianto searched Jack's eyes. "I know," he managed.

Jack rose, pulling Ianto up and into his arms in one smooth movement. "You did so well, Ianto," he murmured. "Never think you didn't."

Ianto melted against Jack's neck, unable to speak through the tears.

"I know. Easier said than done," soothed Jack, as he felt Ianto's arms wind tighter around him. He held Ianto close, rocking them both slightly for comfort against the day. "You know, I'd really like you to take me to a movie, sometime," he said after a long moment.

Ianto stiffened.

"A proper one," Jack amended, hastily. "You know, some stupid thing at a huge Cineplex with popcorn and Coke and ridiculous ticket prices and lots of teenagers making trouble."

Ianto half-laughed, half-sobbed. "Sounds horrible." He pressed a long kiss to the vein that always throbbed with life.

"So it's a date, then," gasped Jack.

Ianto pulled back and gazed at him. "Yup," he murmured, his hand lingering on Jack's face.

Jack drew his fingers through Ianto's hair. "Wanna get out of here?"

"No," said Ianto instantly. "I, uh… want to stay here for the night."

Jack felt him tremble, and he tightened his embrace. "'Here' here," he asked, glancing at the staircase, "or my place?"

"Your place. If you don't mind…."

"Of course I don't mind," admonished Jack. "You know that, right?" He drew back just enough to search Ianto's eyes, frowning.

"Um … yeah, I uh … I just need, um…."

"A little shelter from the rain?"

Ianto nodded, earnestly.

"Yeah. Me, too," said Jack, with a faint laugh.

Ianto kissed him, long and sweet.

Jack felt himself relax for what he realised was the first time since he'd heard that distant thread of music. "C'mon," he said, at last; "I know a nice little hermetically sealed bolt-hole that'll never see so much as a drop of rain, and it's waiting just for us."

"Sounds lovely," said Ianto, "though it could use a bit of a clean."

Jack pulled back to give Ianto an appreciative twice-over. "Mmm…. Better wait till after we've messed it up some more, then."

A lustful gleam made its way into Ianto's eyes, and his lips curled up in that gorgeous, graceful curve that Jack loved. "There is that."

"Unngh!" growled Jack. "Let's go before I have to wipe the next hour and a half from the CCTV footage!"

"I thought you liked doing that," said Ianto as they tugged each other back towards Jack's quarters. "Like watching personal sex tapes, you said."

Jack paused to leer. "We could set up a camera in my hole, if you want."

"There's a lot I want to do in your hole, but setting up a camera isn't quite what I had in mind."

"Spoilsport," laughed Jack, leaning in for a kiss.

And then, the Rift alarm went off.

"Fuck!" muttered Ianto, as Jack groaned.

"No rest for the weary," sighed Jack. He turned as he felt Ianto hesitate. "You gonna be okay with this?" He stepped in, holding Ianto loosely in his arms.

"Yeah," said Ianto, nodding slightly. Then, "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you still have that costume?"

"Which one?"

"That uniform you were wearing in the film. Is it still around? By ... any chance...?"

Jack let a lascivious grin spread over his face. "Why, Ianto Jones!" He traced Ianto's hairline to the curl behind his right ear and toyed with it. "Have I ever told you how much I love a man with a kink for old clothes? Especially _my_ old clothes?" He leaned in. "I think a private showing might be in order," he purred, relishing the shiver igniting Ianto's body.

Tosh came through the cog door then, and Ianto flushed and kissed Jack quickly before rushing off.

As Jack watched Ianto morph back into his slick, professional self--that one, tiny muscle twitch visible only to Jack as a sign of heated frustration--his arousal sparked so sharply that he had to calm himself for a moment before he could join the team. _The Rift had better be giving us something good tonight,_ he thought, trying desperately to banish images of darkened theatres and hot, clever fingers….


End file.
